Chapter 6 - The Trial of Santa Martha
The heavy oak doors of the Sixth Criminal Court of Mexico City slammed shut, sealing out the deafening roar of hundreds of news reporters and television cameras gathered on the courthouse steps.
Inside, the courtroom was packed to capacity.
Doña Regina Santillán sat at the defense table, wearing a plain navy prison jumpsuit. Her luxurious blonde hair had grown out, showing dark grey roots, and her cheeks were sunken and pale. The six months she had spent in Santa Martha Acatitla had completely stripped her of her regal posture.
Beside her sat her court-appointed public defender—a young, exhausted lawyer who looked overwhelmed by the sheer volume of evidence stacked against his client.
Across the aisle sat Prosecutor Carlos Garza, flanked by Mateo and Valeria. Valeria wore a modest burgundy dress, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek bun, her hands resting quietly in her lap. She looked calm, dignified, and entirely unbothered by Regina’s frantic, burning glares from across the room.
"All rise for the Honorable Judge Roberto Sandoval," the court clerk announced.
The judge, a stern man in his late fifties with silver hair, took his seat at the bench and adjusted his reading glasses.
"We are here for the final sentencing hearing in the matter of The People v. Regina Vda. de Santillán," Judge Sandoval declared, his voice echoing across the high-ceilinged room. "The defendant has been convicted of attempted aggravated murder, domestic battery against a pregnant person, and corporate embezzlement exceeding two hundred million pesos."
Regina’s public defender stood up nervously. "Your Honor, we ask the court to consider my client's advanced age, her declining health, and her previous contributions to charitable foundations—"
"Silence, counsel," Judge Sandoval cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. "I have reviewed the forensic reports, the hospital records, and most importantly... the high-definition security footage from the Santillán residence in Las Lomas."
The judge turned his cold gaze toward Regina.
"Mrs. Santillán," the judge said, his voice dripping with disgust. "I have served on the bench for twenty-eight years. I have tried cartel bosses, contract killers, and corrupt politicians. But rarely have I witnessed an act of such cold, calculated, and sociopathic cruelty as what you inflicted upon your daughter-in-law."
Regina gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. "Your Honor, I was trying to protect my family's legacy—"
"You are a disgrace to the concept of motherhood," Judge Sandoval barked, slamming his gravel onto the wooden block. "You pushed a nine-month pregnant woman down a flight of marble stairs, stepped over her bleeding body, and then called an ambulance only to stage an accident. You exhibited zero remorse then, and you exhibit zero remorse now."
The judge picked up the formal sentencing document.
"For the count of attempted aggravated murder, you are sentenced to twenty-five years in state prison. For the counts of corporate fraud and embezzlement, you are sentenced to an additional twelve years, to be served consecutively. Total sentence: thirty-seven years at the Santa Martha Acatitla Women's Correctional Facility, with no possibility of parole."
A collective gasp echoed through the gallery, followed by frantic typing from the journalists in the back row.
Regina let out a shrill, hysterical shriek, collapsing back into her chair. "Thirty-seven years?! That's a death sentence! I’ll die in there!"
"That is the judgment of this court," Judge Sandoval declared, slamming the gavel down one final time. "Session adjourned."
As two female correction officers stepped forward to put heavy wrist and ankle chains on Regina, she turned frantically toward Mateo and Valeria.
"Mateo!" she wept, her voice echoing frantically off the stone walls. "Mateo, tell them to change it! I'm your mother! You can't let me die in a cell! Valeria! Tell him to forgive me! Please! I'll give you everything! I'll beg for your forgiveness on my knees!"
Valeria stood up slowly, holding Mateo’s hand. She looked across the aisle at the woman who had called her "trash," the woman who had tried to erase her and her child from existence.
Valeria didn't smile. She didn't glare. She simply looked at Regina with a quiet, profound pity.
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"I forgave you the moment my daughter took her first breath, Doña Regina," Valeria said softly, her voice carrying clearly across the room. "Not for your sake... but so that my daughter would never have a single drop of your bitterness in her life."
Valeria turned her back on the weeping woman, took her husband's arm, and walked out of the courtroom into the bright, clean sunlight of a brand new day.
